Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,93
feel a hand on my shoulder.
“You made it!” a high-pitched voice says.
When I turn around, a slender Asian woman narrows her gaze at me.
“Oh, sorry! I thought you were someone else.” She lets out a string of giggles.
“No worries.”
She does a double take when she spots Tate standing behind me. “Oh, hey, Tate. Long time no see.” She doesn’t bother to disguise her stunned tone.
“Yup.” He offers a head bob and deadpan stare.
“What have you been up to? It’s been years.”
“Not a whole lot.” He shrugs. “Rock climbing, playing rugby, revolutionizing the power tool industry. The usual.”
“Um, okay, then.” She furrows her brow, then turns back to me. “Sorry again for running into you.”
She shuffles away. Tate grabs my hand and leads me to the snack table.
“Who was that?” I crane my neck to get a glimpse of the mystery woman, but she’s lost in the crowd. A handful of people peek at us, then look away.
“Jaclyn. We weren’t close,” he mumbles.
“I can tell.”
“We had a few friends in common. She’s all about the small talk. I never was.”
My stomach growls, reminding me that it’s dinnertime and I’ve eaten nothing. “I think it’s time for some cake.”
The smell of sickly sweet sugar hits my nostrils. I grab the biggest piece I can find and shovel it into my mouth.
Tate watches me, amused. “Hungry?”
“I’m always hungry for cake,” I say, mouth stuffed, lips shellacked in white frosting.
He laughs. “You are adorable.” I start to wipe at the frosty mess with the back of my wrist, but he holds a hand up. He passes me a napkin, then steals a bite of my cake. When he crinkles his nose at me, I have to steady myself on both feet to make sure I don’t fall. He’s being playful, and it’s more delicious than this cake.
My eyes fall to the frosting-smeared paper plate. “Your sister said something interesting to me while you were grabbing drinks.”
“What was that?”
He swipes a finger full of frosting from the plate and sticks it in his mouth. Biting my bottom lip is the only way I can keep from groaning. Who knew eating cake could be so sensual?
I clear my throat. “She said I’m beyond special to you.” I want to hear Tate say how he feels about me so bad, I could yowl right here in this school gym.
He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
I nod. With his thumb, he swipes a speck of frosting from the plate and dots it on my nose.
I jerk away and laugh. “What the hell?”
With a firm hand on my waist, he pulls me against him. In a split second, his tongue slides over the tip of my nose. The frosting’s gone.
He hums, then licks his lips. His face darkens. “Do I seem like the kind of guy who would lick frosting off a woman’s face in full view of his high school classmates?”
“No.”
He leans to my ear. “That’s what you do to me, Emmie. You make me want to do things I would have never thought to do before. You make me happier than ever. That’s why you’re special.”
Suddenly, this gym is the last place I want to be.
My mouth inches to his ear. “Can we find someplace a bit more private?”
I understand his darkened expression perfectly now. Pulling me by the hand, he leads me out of the gym. We meander down a long, dark hallway until we reach a row of burgundy lockers at the end of the hall. The music is a distant echo.
I tug the collar of his shirt. “It’s crazy isn’t it? How far we’ve come.”
He presses me against the cold metal. “A couple months ago, you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“And you were starting arguments with me constantly.” I trace my finger down the hardness of his collarbone.
“Now you’re my girlfriend.” He presses me against the lockers, lowering his face to mine. “And the reason I finally dug out that roll of contact paper from my hall closet.”
His hands are brackets pressed on either side of my waist, caging me against the lockers. I’m confused at his out-of-the-blue comment, so I kiss him. A second later, my jaw drops.
“I saw you eyeing it when you walked in the kitchen.” He bumps the tip of his nose to mine. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
I yank him toward me by his shirt collar. “You cleared out a drawer for me? Already?” Squeals intersperse the kisses I plant on his lips.
He nods. “For those times when a late